


Emma Watson's Blowbang Spectacular

by MalRen23



Series: Emma Watson's Blowbang Spectacular [1]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Cum Addiction, F/M, Glory Hole, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26558692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalRen23/pseuds/MalRen23
Summary: Through a little bad luck, Emma Watson finds herself in a dirty truck stop restroom. The stall turns out to not only be a gloryhole, but also, exactly what she's looking for.
Relationships: Emma Watson/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Emma Watson's Blowbang Spectacular [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931509
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	1. Self-Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:
> 
> The following is a work of fiction. It is not, in any way, intended to reflect reality. It is purely a fantasy originating in the deepest recesses of my mind. While real people do appear in this work, I, the writer of this work, in no way wish to see these individuals actually put in any situation contained therein. I do not know, nor have I ever met Emma Watson. The version of her that appears in this story is fictional and purely based on her celebrity persona. I apologize if that offends you. My intention is only to entertain. Finally, I make no money from the distribution of this work.

February 2018:

“Em, can you explain this to me, please? Is this someone’s sick attempt at photoshop because it looks pretty real to me.” Oliver Clarke had been Emma Watson’s agent for five years now. He knew what kind of reputation she wanted to maintain with the public, knew that she wanted the world to see her as an upstanding, virtuous figure, a champion for women’s rights and as a sort of good girl, pristine and moral. She based all her role choices and most of her public stances on maintaining this image. For the most part, as far as he knew, she lived her private life this way too. Which was why what he held in his hands shocked him so much.

“Well…” she said, dutifully studying the dark mahogany wood of his desk.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He placed the photo on his desk and slid it across to her. The picture showed Emma leaving the back alley exit of a sex shop called The Hole in the Wall. She was wearing a hat and big dark glasses, but despite that, it was hard to mistake the girl in the photo as anyone but Emma Watson.

“What you’ve got to understand about that is… it’s not my fault…”

“Not your fault that you led a paparazzi photo hound to some seedy smut shop known for its private back room shows…” He sat down in a huff, angry, but resolved to fix this. “Ok then, if its not your fault, please explain this in a way I can understand and preferably in a way I can sell to the public when, not if, but when this photo hits the Internet.” He ran his hands through his graying brown hair, muttering, “…if it isn’t there already.”

“Ok,” said Emma still looking chagrined and flush with embarrassment at the top of Oliver’s desk. “You remember that road trip I took my last year at Brown?”

“Yeah, you and your friends went to Daytona for spring break.” He replied, running his fingers through his hair and sighing in exasperation. “What does a road trip you took three years ago have to do with this picture?”

***

March 2015:

It was Emma’s last year of studies at Brown University. She’d been having a bit of a rough time. She’d recently had to take two semesters off in order to work on a movie. The result pushed her schedule, and she was now under pressure to finish this semester or risk not graduating before further filming commitments would again occupy her time. Midterms had been rough and one of her exams had not gone well. Needless to say, she was stressed out and was very much looking forward to spring break.

She and her friends had the entire week all planned out. They were going to Daytona Beach on a good old-fashioned road trip. Being a World-renown celebrity meant that Emma didn’t get to do a lot of things like everyone else. But all she wanted to do this spring break was go to the beach and do a little partying like a normal college girl. Normal college girls couldn’t afford to fly and they certainly couldn’t afford a suite at a five-star resort. So the plan was to drive down in her friend Mady’s boy friend’s car and stay in a small hotel. Emma hoped that between the crowds, the drunkenness, and her acting ability, she could stay under the radar.

The day of the trip arrived and the five of them piled into Derrek’s 2001 Dodge Dart. It was a small little car, with a tiny trunk and barely enough room for them inside. The Dart, as Derrek called it, was kind of beat up. It was missing the passenger side mirror and the doors on that side were a different color from the rest of the car because of an accident two years ago. But other than that, it was in good shape. Emma had sprung for new tires, an oil change, and a full inspection for the trip because she wanted the college girl experience, not the abducted on the side of the road experience.

Because of the small trunk, everyone packed light. Emma only had a single bag with two swim suits, a pair of slacks, a couple tee shirts, a blouse, in case they went somewhere nice, some sandals and trainers. Mady and her other friends had packed even lighter. They didn’t get on the road till the afternoon, as Mady had one last exam that morning. It was an eighteen-hour drive and the only breaks they had planned were for gas.

The problem was, Emma said to Oliver, was that plans usually fall apart at some point.

“I can take a turn driving.” Emma insisted.

“And risk driving head long into on coming traffic, no thanks.” It was a running joke on the trip that Emma was sure to crash should they let her drive, “because Brits drive on the ‘wrong’ side of the street.”

They had been on the road for fifteen hours now. It was very early in the morning and they were well enmeshed in back woods of Georgia. Mady and her other friends were all passed out in the back, from the exhaustion of being crammed into the small car all day. So, besides Emma, only Derrek was awake as he was again back at the wheel.

“There is no on coming traffic,” Emma laughed, “Its four in the morning. Let me have a turn, please, before you crash us.” She was amused it was true, but her request was also out of concern. It was the third time Derrek had swayed into the wrong lane.

“I’m fine,” he said yawning heavily.

“Well, can we at least stop for gas. I need the toilet, and it looks like you could use some caffeine.”

“You buying?” he laughed, giving her a wink.

“Yes, just please pull over at the next place.”

The next place, was Jimbo’s Truck and Tow. It was one of those big privately-owned truck stops you often see at the back end of nowhere on a quiet stretch of road. It wasn’t the cleanest looking place, but it was well lit and had a big sign that said Fresh Brewed Coffee right in the window.

Derrek pulled in and started to pump the gas. While Emma hopped out, tossed him a hundred-dollar bill, and hurried off to find the toilet. Jimbo’s was the kind of place where the restrooms were outside the building and it took Emma a moment to find them. So by the time she reached the door to the Ladies’, she was practically waddling from keeping her knees closed.

“Ooooh this is gonna be close,” she said through gritted teeth as she pulled futilely on the door handle.

“Occupied,” she heard from behind the locked door.

“Fuck,” she said, as she danced in place trying to hold it in.

That was when she noticed a big burly fat guy exit the door to the Men’s. Figuring that it must have a lock like the ladies, she hurried toward it. She threw open the door and rushed inside. The Men’s was much more expansive and didn’t have a lock on the door. Jimbo’s was a place for truck drivers and most of those were men.

In a quick decision, necessitated by an urgent need to piss, Emma darted for the last in a long row of stalls. She hoped to avoid notice by going into the last stall, figuring that most people would use the closest and that she might slip in and out between traffic. However, she failed to notice, in her haste, the sign etched into the door above, which read: “Gloryhole.”

Upon entering the stall, Emma immediately threw the latch, dropped her shorts and sat down. A hot, thick stream of acidic-smelling piss instantly began to fill the toilet. She closed her eyes in relief and pleasure at the much-needed release in pressure. However, as she sat, she started to take notice…notice of some rather alarming details.

First was the floor. The worn, muted brown tiles looked old. They were covered in dirt from many a truck driver’s soiled boots and stray bits of toilet paper were littered all about. More alarming though, were the lines of gross looking white streaks staining the area all over it.

From the floor, Emma raised her gaze to the door. It was covered in profanity. Call Mike for a sloppy BJ, accompanied by a phone number. Jenny’s an anal cumslut, and other gems like: cum whore, cock sucker, Jimbo loves BBC…and many others.

Emma felt a weird twist in her stomach, like she was going to be sick, but was at the same time oddly fascinated. That was when she turned her attention to the metallic stall wall to her left. The first thing she noticed was the hole cut into it, approximately eight cm in diameter. There was an arrow pointing to the hole, drawn in thick, black magic marker, from the words SUCK ME, penned in big, bold letters.

Suddenly, Emma realized she was someplace she very much didn’t want to be. She started to get up and flee the stall when she heard boots just outside. There was no way to leave without being noticed and, likely, recognized. She froze in panic, settling back down on the seat, determined to wait for an opening.

The man outside grunted. “Where you headed?” he said to a man Emma couldn’t see off to the side.

“Atlanta. You?”

“Fuck man, I’m driving all the way to Dallas… fucking supervisor didn’t tell me where I was going till just last night…”

“Assholes.”

As the two men finished up their ‘shop talk,’ Emma heard one leave, while two more men come in. She was stuck… She heard a stall door at the far end of the row close, along with a grumpy huff and an angry fart. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she curled up on the seat in some misguided attempt to hide.

For the better part of ten minutes Emma sat on the toilet seat as men came and went, trapped and listening to the sounds of pissing, groaning, flushing, farting and, worst of all, the distinctive sounds of plops landing in the water. She felt ill, but, at the same time, for a reason she certainly couldn’t explain, turned on. Her pussy tingled, she touched it gingerly to be sure, and again, for reasons she couldn’t possibly fathom, she was wet.

A wave of nausea washed through Emma’s whole body. What was going on with her? She felt bile rising in her throat and was forced to dismount the toilet and put her head in as vomiting was inevitable. She heaved, once, twice, three times, emptying her stomach at the horrifying realization that this disgusting men’s toilet had aroused.

So caught up was she in throwing up, she didn’t see or hear someone enter the stall next to her. She didn’t catch the sound of his fly lowering, or his positioning himself directly in front of the gloryhole, or notice as he slid his flaccid dick through it to her side.

Emma lifted her head from the toilet, pushing her long brown hair up out of her eyes. Her skin was hot, flush from her recent retching, bile dripped from her lips and her eyes were watering. She wiped her lips and settled back on her ass to catch her breath, trying to recover. That was when she noticed it hanging there.

Her big brown eye fixed on it. She couldn’t look away. It was like a car wreck, or a body lying on the side of the highway, horrifying and yet oddly fascinating. She started to reach out to touch it, stopping her hand mere centimeters from it. Why was this place having such an effect on her? She felt hot again, but this time from arousal. She licked her lips and again felt her pussy tingle.

Then alarm spread through her. How was she going to get out of this without being noticed, recognized? Her reputation, her career, her life would be ruined.

Suddenly the man on the other side of the wall spoke. “What’s the holdup man, I ain’t got all day?”

It occurred to me then, she said to Oliver, that they couldn’t see me. This man didn’t know who I was, didn’t even know I was a girl. In fact, he thought I was a man. I realized that on my side of that hole, I could be as filthy as I wanted and no one would ever know.

Brilliant, he responded, his voice thick with sarcasm.

The man’s cock was a good size. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either. Emma judged it as above average. It had a big bulbous purple head that was already dripping milky white precum. The man had a thick tangle of black pubes. The hair was so thick, some of it even ran down the length of his shaft. It was easily the ugliest, nastiest looking dick Emma had ever seen, not that she’d seen too many at this point in her life. She leaned toward it, taking a deep sniff, inhaling its scent. It smelled gross, mostly of sweat but with a hint of something fruity…maybe old, dried up lube, she thought. Either way, it certainly hadn’t been washed in quite some time.

“Enough with the foreplay, buddy, either get on with it or I’m out of here.”

The thought occurred to her as she sat there, on the filthy cum splattered floor, that she could just let him leave. The restroom seemed quiet right now, perhaps she could slip out after he’d gone. Then, Emma felt her pussy tingle yet again and, banishing every safe choice she’d ever made, every moral, virtuous good girl image she’d ever portrayed, Emma made a decision based not on logic, but on unabashed lust. With one trembling hand she reached out for the flaccid, grotesque, dangling cock of a stranger, while the other delved between her thighs.

I couldn’t explain it to you, even now, but I was consumed with desire.

Emma gripped this strange man’s dick firmly about the base as she leaned in closer to get a better look. It was warm from hiding beneath his fat belly and damp with his sweat. It twitched in her hand as she held it and she could feel it begin to swell in arousal at her touch. She gave it a few short tugs, causing the precum to drip onto her knees and involuntarily, Emma licked her lips. She began to gently rub her clit as she took her first experimental lap upon the tip. It tasted foul, dirty, disgusting, but that lick made her pussy spasm like nothing ever had before.

The man on the other side groaned in pleasure at even this tentative touch of her tongue. Emma heard him grip the top of the dividing wall, felt him lean against it, shoving his cock as far through the little hole as it could go. “Damn, buddy,” he sighed, as she pressed her lips to the tip, giving it a soft, teasing kiss, “you’ve got soft lips.”

Emma pressed her lips against the tip and opened her mouth. She closed her lips around the top of his cock and gave her first tentative suck. It was the most disgusting thing she’d ever experienced. His prick was foul and, at this close distance, she could smell the palatable stench of sweat and beer coming from his body. She could see just a bit of him through the hole. His big fat belly was covered in thick, matted hair and…were those little pieces of corn chips clinging to the hair around his belly button?

The realization made bile rise in her throat. This man was a filthy pig. But, of course he was. He was sticking his dick through a hole in a disgusting men’s restroom at a roadside truck stop for God knows who to suck! The thought, however, turned Emma on like she’d never been aroused in her life.

In so many ways, she’d lived a repressed life. Always under the spot light, always under scrutiny, never a moment alone. In here, she was alone, behind these walls she could be whoever she wanted, and no one would ever know. She could do what she wanted, choose to blow the cock in front of her, or tease him till he left. There were no consequences, only that glorious feeling between her legs.

It was that feeling which drove her on. Her pussy was throbbing and spasming, not just from her fingers, but from the thought of blowing this stranger in a filthy truck stop restroom. Emma plunged her lips down the length of his shaft, moaning as the salty sweet taste of filth filled her mouth. She cupped this stranger’s cock with her tongue and the man groaned loudly. His pleasure echoed off the walls as she swallowed two-thirds of his prick in one vigorous motion.

In the space of less than a second, the man was fully erect, and Emma slid her lips back up his length, till she held just the very tip of his manhood between her lips. “God damn!” he moaned when she immediately plunged back down, this time burying her face against the wall as she took his entire cock.

Drool began to fill Emma’s mouth as she rubbed vigorously on her clit. It poured from her lips as she took two more energetic plunges up and down the strangers cock. Her pussy began to grow damp as she humped her fingers. Thick girl cum dripped upon the floor, loosening the dirt and causing it to cover her ass in its filth. Soon toilet paper, dirt and dried cum covered Emma Watson’s bouncing ass as she swallowed a dirty truck driver’s cock again and again.

The stranger behind the divider groaned, he shuddered and, without warning, blew his load deep into Emma’s mouth. His hot, sticky cum filled her. It was easily the most vile and repugnant thing she’d ever had in her mouth. It tasted like sweat and crusty old socks… she felt herself gag as it hit the back of her throat.

She pulled away in disgust as he staggered back against the far wall of his own stall. “Thanks, guy,” he muttered before hurrying out the door.

For a split second, Emma debated spitting the foul liquid into the toilet. But her tingling cunt demanded a different action. SWALLOW! She closed her lips and her eyes, holding it in her mouth and rubbing away at her little pink nub. Then, just as she shuddered in her own little mini orgasm, she swallowed the pig’s massive, repugnant load of cum.

When she came back down to Earth, Emma realized the restroom was eerily quiet. Either naturally, or because the other men felt uncomfortable listening to another guy get a hot, heavy BJ from what they assumed to be a man, she didn’t know. She did, however, take that opportunity to stand up, yank up her shorts, and run from the dirty, truck stop restroom before she could dwell too heavily on what she’d just done.

Outside, Derrek asked her what took so long, not noticing the dirt on her knees or the little dots of drool on her shirt. “There was a queue for the toilet,” she said, wiping her lips and scurrying around to the other side of the Dart before Derrek could ask any other questions. He shrugged and hopped inside. Then, after a sip of his coffee, started them back down the road.

"And ever since then," she said, looking up at Oliver in shame. "I just can’t seem to get enough cum…"


	2. Detour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma demonstrates to her agent just how far she has fallen since Jimbo's Truck and Tow. While the mystery around the photo grows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:
> 
> The following is a work of fiction. It is not, in any way, intended to reflect reality. It is purely a fantasy originating in the deepest recesses of my mind. While real people do appear in this work, I, the writer of this work, in no way wish to see these individuals actually put in any situation contained therein. I do not know, nor have I ever met Emma Watson. The version of her that appears in this story is fictional and purely based on her celebrity persona. I apologize if that offends you. My intention is only to entertain. Finally, I make no money from the distribution of this work.

February 2018:

“And ever since then," she said, looking up at Oliver in shame. "I just can’t seem to get enough cum.”

Oliver Clarke leaned back hard into his plush, leather desk chair. He let out a long, exaggerated breath of air. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing. The story he’d just heard was almost beyond belief. Emma Watson was his best client. He’d known her for more than five years. Gotten her the role in The Bling Ring to help her shed that Hermione Granger, Harry Potter image. He’d landed her the much-touted role as Belle, the epitome of the strong, intelligent, good girl, Disney Princess. In the years he’d know her, she’d become a friend. One he thought he’d known… Apparently, he was wrong.

He ran his hands through his gray-tinged brown hair, still staring down at his desk and in shock from Emma’s revelation. “Ok, I still don’t see how we go from an obscure, roadside truck stop three years ago to you barely bothering to hide your face as you sneak out of some seedy smut shop in South Central LA at four in the morning. I mean,” he looked across to her, his eyes unfocused and his neck damp with sweat, “why didn’t you just do what all Hollywood starlets do, and get a pool guy, a dog walker, a boyfriend… something like that?”

“Tried those.” Emma slid off the chair in front of Oliver’s desk. Now that her secret was out, she felt her pussy spasm with the thought of putting her longtime agent’s dick in her mouth. She was tired of hiding this from him, and while it made sense, to a certain degree, to do so from a professional stand point, it was clear, with the revelation of the paparazzi photo, that time was over. She licked her lips, looking over at him. Retelling the story of how she’d first stumbled upon the gloryhole had turned her on so very much. Add to that, how she’d spent years fantasizing about the moment when Oliver might find out, so he’d know what a dirty slut she really was, and she could now barely contain the urge to suck him off.

“There was a time,” she said, hiking her skirt up over her hips, so she could more easily crawl towards him, “when I employed a pool guy, a lawn care specialist, a masseuse, a fitness instructor, a dog walker, and a security guard. I don’t even own a dog…” she said huskily and with each job type she mentioned, Emma crawled closer and closer to Oliver. Her sultry brown eyes burned with lust, with longing, with a deep-seated need. “Most days since then,” she said, as she crawled within grabbing distance, “I don’t eat my meals, I swallow them.” Emma coyly bit her lip. Then, with a twisted grin on her face, seized him at the waist.

Oliver flinched as his client and friend, a champion for women’s rights and an outspoken agent for equality, pressed her hand against the growing bulge in his pants. There was no trace of that strong-willed UN Ambassador who wanted to see women treated the same as men in her eyes. There was just pure, unadulterated lust. “Em, what are you doing? I’m married.”

Ignoring the question and the statement, she just stared right into his eyes, a burning need in her gaze, and lowered the zipper on his pants. “In the two years since Jimbo’s Truck and Tow, I must have sucked 200 different dicks. Who knows?” she added, fishing Oliver’s half erect cock from his boxers, “maybe more.”

Oliver shuddered as the sexy actress, his longtime friend, wrapped her lips around the side of his penis near the base. His head lolled back against the chair as his prick swelled to full mast. He sighed in pleasure as her tongue pressed against the tender underside of his shaft. He held the arms of the chair in a death grip as Emma’s mouth moved along his shaft, tongue swirling, lips tenderly sucking as she pulled back toward the head. “Oh my God,” he gasped, when at last her sweet lips finally encircled the tip of his dick and she sucked softly upon it.

It was almost beyond belief, Oliver thought as her lips slid down his shaft. How many men in the world fantasize about this? Emma Watson, one of the most famous actresses in the world, the girl who played Hermione Granger, was sucking his dick. She flicked her tongue at the head when her lips moved back to the top, and he couldn't help but revel in the moment. Right now, he didn’t care that she wasn’t that innocent girl anymore, and that she’d sucked hundreds of pricks. Here and now, there was just the feeling and that look in her eyes.

“The problem is,” she said, freeing it from her mouth and looking up at him with that lustful need burning in her gaze. “It was never the same rush that I felt sitting on that filthy restroom floor.” She gently pumped his prick in her fist and reverently lapped at the tip when the first drop of pre-cum appeared. Her eyes closed, and she shuddered in ecstasy from the taste.

When she looked back up at him, there was fire in her eyes. She slowly worked his cock in her hand. “That was when it hit me. The difference between all the cocks I sucked in two years and the one at Jimbo’s was the gloryhole.” She pressed his now rock-hard cock against her cheek, rubbed it over her lips, stuck her tongue out, and teased the tip. “I knew those other men… at least more than I did the total stranger whose face I never saw in that restroom.”

She gently kissed his cock, sucked it briefly into her mouth, the look in her eye suggesting she was savoring the taste. “Those other cocks were nice. The cum,” she shuddered, “was great. But it was nothing compared to the ecstasy of not knowing, of not seeing the face belonging to that cock, of tasting its filth, and having no utter idea where it had been.” Emma gently smacked his prick against her face. “For all I knew, it could have been up some sweaty guy’s ass just a few hours before.” She ran his dick over her lips. “The idea made my pussy quiver.”

“So you started visiting gloryholes,” Oliver said, stating the obvious. “Looking for that same rush.” He shuddered again as Emma smacked his prick against her outstretched tongue before sucking it back between her lips. “And that’s how you ended up at The Hole in the Wall?”

Emma laughed around the cock in her mouth. “That place is just one of a dozen or more smut shops where I suck dick.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Emma slid Oliver’s prick back between her lips. She then diligently began to move them up and down his shaft, sucking and rolling her tongue and moaning as she did. “Fuck, Em, that feels so damn good.” In this moment, Oliver had completely forgotten about his wife, his children. Sucking a couple hundred cocks had transformed his innocent little starlet into the most amazing cocksucker in all of LA.

His head lolled back against the chair. He gripped the arms tight reveling in the sensation of Emma Watson’s lips sliding up and down his prick, of her tongue swirling around his shaft, of the vibrations of her throat as she moaned. “Makes me wonder though,” he mused, the pleasure he was experiencing sending his brain down a whole new thought process, “why hasn’t that picture hit the Internet?”

“Think it might have something to do with that shop in particu—lar!?!” He groaned as Emma’s lips pulled to the top of his cock and sucked hard upon his head. She plunged back down, and he felt her fingertips on the inside of his pants. She then began to gently fondle his balls as she suckled the tip of his manhood.

“When was the first time you went there?” Oliver’s words came in gasps. The sensation of Emma’s mouth as it diligently slid up and down his shaft was driving him crazy. His wife occasionally sucked his dick. But it was nothing like this. She only put in minimal effort. It was clear she didn’t enjoy it. She did it to make him happy… This, with Emma, was something different, almost reverent. It was like she was an addict and his cock was the drug she craved.

Emma pulled back off his cock. She looked up at him, that lusty need still in her eyes. She grinned almost evilly, smacked his prick against her check. “You really want to hear that story right now, Oli? Or,” she nuzzled the tip against her lips, “do you want me to suck out every ounce of cum from your balls?”

“The…the second one…please…”

“Good choice.”

“Oh, I’m going to Hell for this…” Oliver groaned as Emma wrapped her lips back around his prick. Her tongue prodded the tip before swirling around the shaft as she plunged back down the length. She gently squeezed his balls, teasingly pulling on them as her lips rose back up to the top.

Emma ignored the comment, continuing to work on her agent’s throbbing cock. She worked slow, sliding her lips up and down his manhood, gently, patiently edging him to get as big a load from him as possible. Murmuring contentedly as she suckled the tip, she moved the hand that wasn’t working his nut sack into her panties.

Her cunt, as it always was when she was sucking dick, was dripping wet. Emma began to rub at her clit, grinding her pussy against her hand as her lips rose and fell on Oliver’s prick. It was nowhere near the biggest she’d had in her mouth, but cock was cock and cum…she could never seem to get enough of the sticky, sweet substance.

Oliver was writhing in his chair after Emma kept him on edge for nearly ten minutes. “Oh, my God, you’re driving me crazy…” he sighed, as she teased him by gently lapping at the head after taking him into her throat four or five times in a row. He reached out with both hands, ran his fingers into her long, sexy brown hair and, looked down at her.

She looked up into his eyes and she could see he was aching with the need for release. “You want to give me that big load of spunk?” she teased, grinning, as she pulled on his balls and slowly humped her hand.

Oliver nodded. “Yes. Please.”

“Then stand up and fuck my face.”

“What?” Oliver asked, his eyes growing wide in shock and surprise.

“You heard me. You want to cum? Then get up and fuck my throat…” To emphasize how serious she was, Emma sat back on her ass, she folded her arms behind her back, opened her mouth and slid her tongue all the way out of her mouth. Her big brown eyes were filled with need and drool pooled from her mouth, staining her already drenched blouse.

Oliver pushed his chair back and nervously rose to his feet. He was no Casanova or John Holmes when it came to sex. Usually, he and his wife did things missionary style. When they did mix things up, she would ride on top. They never did anything wild. He’d certainly never faced fucked anyone… But, his balls were aching for release and he could see the desire in Emma’s gaze. The hunger for his cum filled her gaze. She didn’t just want it, she needed it. He quickly kicked off his shoes and took off his pants.

The whole time he undressed, Emma knelt, watching him with her gorgeous, brown, need-filled eyes. Her mouth hung agape and her tongue stretched out like a welcome mat. She licked her lips as he approached, her eyes moving from his to lock on to the real object of her desire—his fat, blood-engorged prick.

As he stepped up in front of her, he again cupped the back of her head in one hand. The other gripped the base of his dick. He slapped it against her tongue a few times for good measure before sliding it in past her lips. As the head went in, Emma’s lips closed tight around it, forming an airtight seal as she sucked down upon it.

Oliver sighed in pleasure at the warm, inviting feeling of her mouth. Emma then raised her eyes back to his as he took his first tentative stroke into her mouth. The lust and need in her gaze urged him on and he took the back of her head in both hands. He pumped his hips back and forth, taking three slow, deep thrusts into her throat.

Emma’s mouth was heaven. She rolled and undulated her tongue as he probed deeper and deeper into her eager, willing throat. Soon she was moaning and stroking her pussy though her panties as he grew more and more heated in his thrusting. Drool pooled from her mouth and her lusty, needy eyes never left his as Oliver grew bolder and bolder.

After several more hard thrusts past her lips, Oliver was hot and he ached for release. His balls slapped against her chin. The head of his cock slid past her esophagus again and again even as she moaned and rubbed her pussy. “Fuck!” he gasped, “I’m gonna—!" He took one more deep stroke and blew his load.

His cock exploded like a shotgun into the back of Emma’s mouth. But, so caught up in the moment and the feeling, he couldn’t stop there. He held her head and continued to thrust as he fired load after load of hot, sticky seed into her throat. But, even as he came over and over, Emma dutifully swallowed it down. Even when he tried to pull away, she urgently grabbed his hips, desperate to keep his prick in her mouth. She held him there, sucking on his dick, trying to pull as much cum as possible from his balls, refusing to let him go till his balls were empty and his cock was limp and flaccid.

She released him and Oliver collapsed back into his desk chair. Emma looked at him, cum and drool dripping from her chin. She held a massive amount of his jizz in her mouth and began to rub her pussy. She closed her eyes and humped her hand, holding his seed till she grew close to orgasm.

Both hands went to her crotch, one furiously rubbed her clit. The other slid inside. Emma, holding his seed in her mouth, eyes closed, face bathed in ecstasy, finger fucked and stroked herself toward orgasm. Soon she was moaning as she humped her probing digits and a wet sloshing sound filled Oliver’s office. She moaned loudly in orgasm and swallowed down the cum she held in her mouth. “So yummy,” she sighed.

Emma collapsed onto the floor, still gently rubbing her clit and working her fingers slowly in and out of her dripping wet snatch as she came down from her orgasmic high. When she was done, she looked up at him with a lazy grin and raised glistening fingers to her mouth. He watched her, feeling his groin stir, as she sucked her juices carefully from each digit. She then cradled her stomach, a contented glow on her face.

Oliver recovered his pants, stepping into them and zipping up. He put his shoes on and straightened his jacket and tie in an effort to regain some semblance of professionalism. When he was done, he looked down at Emma, who was laying on her back on the floor, legs splayed, contented and glowing.

She gazed up at him lewdly when she noticed he was looking down on her. “I don’t care how you look at me… this feeling,” she said, rubbing her tummy, “is worth it.” At seeing his ensuing frown, Emma finally gave ground and rolled to her knees. She stood up and pulled her skirt back down around her hips. There was nothing to be done about her blouse, but the drool would dry soon enough. “Towel, then?”

Oliver handed her a handkerchief and she wiped the drool and cum from her chin and chest before settling back into the chair opposite his desk. “I want to talk about this photo again. There must be some reason it hasn’t hit the internet. I don’t suppose you know when it was taken?”

“No,” Emma admitted, tossing her agent’s handkerchief down onto his desk. She picked up the picture, looking it over. “The Hole in the Wall.” She frowned at the photo. “I’ve only been there a few times.”

“Well, if you’ve been doing this for some time, going to these…gloryholes I mean.” Oliver struggled again to imagine his innocent, female-empowering client and friend doing that, even despite what he had just witnessed firsthand. “And, if this was the first time you were caught on camera, either you got sloppy…” he nearly laughed at the unintended pun, “or there is something about this place in particular.”

Emma thoughtfully rubbed her chin. Oliver could see a lustful light filling her eyes. He could tell this place held a special reverence for her. “This shop,” she grinned at him and teasingly licked her lips, “is patricianly filthy.”


	3. The Mysterious Shopkeeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma recounts the tale of her first visit to The Hole in the Wall and her encounter with its mysterious shopkeeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:
> 
> The following is a work of fiction. It is not, in any way, intended to reflect reality. It is purely a fantasy originating in the deepest recesses of my mind. While real people do appear in this work, I, the writer of this work, in no way wish to see these individuals actually put in any situation contained therein. I do not know, nor have I ever met Emma Watson. The version of her that appears in this story is fictional and purely based on her celebrity persona. I apologize if that offends you. My intention is only to entertain. Finally, I make no money from the distribution of this work.

February 2018:

“I want to talk about this photo again,” Oliver Clarke said, with a frown, as he glanced at the picture on his desk. The photo was of his client, world-famous actress, Emma Watson, who’d been caught leaving a smut shop and had barely bothered to hide her face. “There must be some reason it hasn’t hit the internet yet. I don’t suppose you know when it was taken?”

“No,” Emma admitted, tossing the handkerchief her agent had given her to clean up the mess she’d made down onto his desk. She picked up the picture, looking it over. “The Hole in the Wall.” She frowned at the photo. “I’ve only been there a few times.”

“Well, if you’ve been doing this for some time, going to these…gloryholes I mean.” Oliver struggled again to imagine the seemingly innocent feminist, and women’s rights champion on her knees in a dirty, disgusting smut shop blowing a bunch of strangers, despite the fact that she’d just been worshiping his cock like it held the meaning of life. “And, if this was the first time you were caught on camera, either you got sloppy…” he nearly laughed at the unintended pun, “or there is something about this place in particular.”

Emma thoughtfully rubbed her chin. Oliver could see a lustful light filling her eyes. It was clear this place held a special reverence for her. “This shop,” she grinned at him and teasingly licked her lips, “is particularly filthy.”

Oliver frowned at the comment, but even more so at the practically orgasmic look on his client’s face while she thought of a dingy smut shop in South Central LA. “If we can focus here,” he said, bringing her back to the moment. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but perhaps you should tell me a little bit about this place. When was the first time you were there?”

“A few weeks back. I heard about it when I was hanging out in a men’s restroom in Compton—”

“I get the idea,” he interrupted her before she went into a tangential story about blowing more guys in a public restroom. He ignored her frown, offering her a chance at a different story. “I guess you’d better tell me about that first visit. What this place was like? Was there any creepy or unusual staff you might have bumped into.”

“It was late January…” Oliver watched as his client absently touched her pussy through the fabric of her skirt. “…and, there was this shopkeeper…”

Oliver frowned, but rather than wait for his admonishing comment, Emma plunged ahead into her story “Winter time is the best time to visit a smut shop, especially for the first time. Because, while it doesn’t exactly get cold here in LA, its cool enough that I can wear a jumper and a hat, and no one gives me a second glance. That’s how I dressed the first time I went to the Hole in the Wall.”

January 2018:

Emma was dressed in a thick, ratty, brown sweater that her PA had found on a shelf at Goodwill. It was bulky, oversized, and had more than one frayed edge to it. She also wore a faded Dodger’s baseball hat pulled low over her eyes, bulky gray sweatpants covered in black streaks, and a very old, very ragged pair of trainers. She’d even smudged a little dirt on her chin to complete the disguise. But, the most crucial part of her deception, was riding the bus. No one expected to see a world-famous celebrity on the bus, especially in this neighborhood.

The bus stop was a few blocks from the alley where the Hole in the Wall’s entrance was located, so Emma had to walk. She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her sweatpants, lowered her head to look at the sidewalk, and trudged along that way, trying not to draw any undue attention to herself. She endured the walk without giving herself away, despite passing a homeless drug addict who was passed out and lying on the sidewalk with a needle literally sticking out of his arm.

There was also a very shady-looking black guy with a suspicious bulge in his waistline that she was sure was a gun. He hollered at her as she went past, “you lookin for a fix? I got what you need.” She didn’t look up, only increased her pace a bit to hurry past him. He muttered, “raggedy old bitch probably ain’t got no money anyhow,” as she went by.

Emma smiled after she was out of his sight. In the months since discovering that the high she got from sucking dick was just as much about the gloryhole as it was about the cum, she’d gotten pretty good at disguising herself so she could pass unnoticed into some very questionable places. She told herself that it was developing her acting skills, but even she wasn’t delusional enough to think this behavior was about anything more than blowing a random stranger and getting that sweet, sweet cum.

The Hole in the Wall’s entrance was below street level on the side of a large brick building, down a dark, garbage-strewn alley. There was only a single streetlight illuminating the narrow road. The other lights, it seemed, had been busted out for quite some time. Emma turned down the alley and walked up toward a faded red door at the bottom of a shady looking stairwell. Next to it was a flickering neon sign that read Hole in the Wall in shifting pink, purple, and yellow lights. She touched the sticky, metal doorknob, and felt her pussy clench in anticipation as she turned it and went inside.

There was a soft jingle of bells as she pulled the door open. Immediately accompanying it was the pungent odor of sweat, misery, and dried up, old jizz. The main storeroom floor was lit by a series of obnoxious flickering florescent lights. It was covered in old, peeling yellow wallpaper, and was filled with tired-looking wooden shelves lined mostly with decade old VHS tapes. An auspicious and thrilling beginning, she thought. This place was obviously a front for something else. The dust on those tapes was thick and there wasn’t a single customer browsing.

She walked toward the counter at the room’s far end. Behind it stood a tall, gaunt, greasy man with long, thin, black hair and dark, beady eyes. His demeanor made her think of how a younger, less reputable Severus Snape might look. He watched her approach with a narrowed gaze and a skeptical scowl on his lips. “You lookin for Dantrell? He’s round the corner outside. We don’t sell smack here, junkie.”

Emma put her hands on the glass counter. She’d purposely rubbed a little dirt on them to complete her disguise. She didn’t want him to recognize her, so she kept her head down, the cap pulled low and softly said, “I’m not a junkie,” in an American accent.

“No. You could’ve fooled me,” he said dismissively. “What do you want then?”

Emma licked her lips anxiously, she could feel her pussy clenching. She was desperate for cum and didn’t know how she’d handle it if this guy sent her away because he thought she was a homeless drug addict. “You…you got a back room? I,” she swallowed nervously, “I heard you… you sometimes pay girls to—”

The man behind the counter laughed. “Get lost, bitch, my customers don’t need whatever STD is hitching a ride behind those filthy lips.”

“I’m clean,” Emma pleaded. “I, I just need the cash…”

“You’re clean?” His skepticism clung heavy to his voice. “Hmmmm,” the man rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Look up here, let me see your eyes. I can always tell a drugie from the eyes.”

Emma took a step back; her instinct was to bolt. She was sure if she looked up at this greasy asshole that he would recognize her. But, if she didn’t get a dick in her mouth soon…well, she didn’t know what would happen, only felt the need for it consuming her. It’s worth the risk, she told herself, her disguise hadn’t failed her yet. People see what they want to see, and no one would see a celebrity dressed like she was in a place like this. So, nervously, she raised her gaze and looked the shopkeeper in the eyes.

He peered down at her, towering over her like an ominous scarecrow. His dark eyes narrowed in suspicion, looking very much like a taller, younger, and thinner Alan Rickman. “Closer,” he sneered, beckoning Emma near.

She took a tentative step forward and the man seized her chin. He leaned down, getting a close look into her eyes. His breath smelled foul, like tuna fish sitting in the sun, his lips were thin and tightened as he considered her. The good news was, there was no indication in his eyes that he recognized her. Still, Emma had expected some kind of a reaction. Most men, she’d learned long ago found her amazingly sexy. Even without makeup, dirt on her face, and dressed like a bag-lady she was hot. This man, however didn’t think so. Either that, or he had so little regard for her that she didn’t even register as a person… That last idea made her pussy quiver.

“Not bloodshot,” he said softly. “Pupils aren’t dialated…” He released her chin allowing her to step back. “It seems you are clean, what a surprise,” he said, under his breath. “Though a shower certainly wouldn’t hurt,” he muttered, wiping his hands on his pants.

Emma breathed a sigh of relief. His gaze had taken in the dirt and the disheveled clothes, but not her identity. He glanced toward a door in the corner of the shop, “you make twenty percent, or four bucks a customer. Customers stay as long as they like, up to an hour. Take it or get your skanky ass the fuck out.”

The statement was flat and didn’t seem up for negotiation. Not that Emma was interested in the money. But, she also didn’t want him to be suspicious. She dropped her gaze back to the floor. “Five,” she said softly. “I’m worth it.”

The greasy shopkeeper cast an appraising gaze over Emma. The baggy, dirty clothes did wonders to hide the amazing body beneath it and to obscure the fact that she was a world-famous celebrity. “Open your mouth,” he ordered. “Let me see your teeth, your gums.”

It was degrading, but it made Emma’s pussy spasm as she looked back up at him. She opened her mouth in a wide O and used her finger to pull her lips back so she could show the haughty shopkeeper her gums. She trembled as he reached out for her and slowly inserted his index finger into her mouth.

Again, she expected some soft of reaction from the man. As a Hollywood starlet, she had ridiculously well-maintained teeth. They were bright white, and polished to shine under the camera, and were a clear indicator, by any means that she didn’t live on the street. However, the shopkeeper continued to look at her like she was subhuman, like she was less than worthless, and Emma found that extremely arousing. Her breathing began to increase as his finger entered her mouth. Her pussy spasmed as he touched her teeth and gums, as he ran his finger back and forth over her tongue. The whole while staring impassively into her eyes. She felt her legs tremble in lust and longing as she stood under that gaze… but never once did the light of recognition spark on his face. “Five,” he agreed, in a whisper as he withdrew his finger from her mouth. “But you start with giving me a freebie.”

“Deal…” she sighed, practically having an orgasm right there from the demeaning and dismissive way he addressed her.

The shopkeeper let his hand fall back to his side. His gaze drifted back toward the front door as if Emma had ceased to exist. “Well, hurry up,” he muttered, when she didn’t immediately move. “Get back here before I change my mind…” He then folded his arms across his chest and didn’t look back at her even as she made her way around the counter.

Emma quickly moved around behind the counter while the shopkeeper totally ignored her. She sat the baseball hat on the counter, it would only interfere with the task at hand, and she dropped to her knees in front of him. She reached out a trembling hand to the zipper on his frayed black jeans and bit her lip in anticipation. Slowly, she slid it down, then reached into his pants and searched for his cock. It was completely flaccid, as if he couldn’t give two shits he was about to get blown, or that he even acknowledged there was a girl on her knees before him.

She fished it out and gasped softly. Even flaccid, it was very long and was clean and smooth. Emma gulped and licked her lips as the tension continued to build in her pussy. Unable to take it any longer, she leaned in and wrapped her lips around the tip. She closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation of again having a dick in her mouth, then began to suckle softly upon it.

The shopkeeper made not one noise, groan, or sigh, even as Emma worked her lips all the way down its length. She reached out with her tongue and lapped softly at his cleanly shaven nutsack as she held his slowly hardening prick in her mouth. He leaned against the wall, impassive as if this was something that happened every day. It probably was.

It made Emma’s pussy tingle to think how she was just another faceless slut slobbering on this guy’s prick. She lapped at his balls and slid her lips up and down its length for a minute or so as it grew to full size. His dick wasn’t very big around. But what it lacked in girth, it made up for with its enormous length. Also, it was fastidiously clean, which wasn’t the biggest turn on for Emma. but doing it right out here on the open floor of this dirty shop more than made up for the lack of filth.

Emma popped it from her mouth, turned her head, and slid her lips down the side of the shopkeeper’s amazing dick. When she reached the base, she sucked both of his testicles into her mouth and began to work his shaft up and down with her hand. Even then, despite the drool dripping from the head of his cock, despite Emma sucking on his balls like her life depended on it, he never moved or even seemed to acknowledged her presence.

That all changed when she heard the soft jingle of bells, indicating that a customer had entered the store. She froze in fear, his dick in hand, and balls filling her mouth. Heavy footsteps sounded on the floor as the gentleman approached the counter. The shopkeeper seized her head and pulled her away. When she gasped in startlement, he thrust his prick back into her mouth and held her there with a strong hand.

“Hey, Vick,” said a deep voice.

The shopkeeper, whose name apparently was Vick, said. “Sup, Mike,” and held Emma forcefully all the way down on his cock.

Emma struggled to breathe. She gasped and choked on the long, thin prick lodged in her throat. He held her there while Mike watched and laughed. “Found another one I see?”

“Hey,” Vick said, as the two men slapped hands, “a homeless bitch in turmoil is her loss, our gain.” He then pulled Emma’s hair, dragging her lips back along his cock.

She took a deep gasp of breath before being plunged back down its length. Her pussy was shuddering at the degrading way she was being treated, and with her hands free, she lowered one into her sweatpants. Her fingers rubbed her clit as the two men continued to talk.

“Booth two is open. Ain’t nobody back there right now. You want in?”

“You know it,” Mike responded, as Vick continued to fuck Emma’s face, dragging her lips back and forth on his cock as he yanked on her hair, pulling her to and fro. There was a rustling sound as Mike reached into his pants to fish out a twenty. He placed it on the counter then said. “This bitch gonna be back there later?”

“We’ll see,” the shopkeep responded as he continued to casually fuck Emma’s face. “Depends on how this goes. So far,” he said, with a sneer, “it’s not going well.”

“Bitches,” Mike said conceitedly. There was a sound then as they two men slapped hands again followed by heavy footsteps as Mike moved toward the door in the corner of the store. Then a buzzing noise and the sound of a door opening.

When it closed, Vick released his hold on Emma’s hair and said, “I’m beginning to second guess this, bitch. Better change my mind or I’m kicking your ass to the curb.” He then casually crossed his arms over his chest and turned an uncaring gaze back to the front door.

Emma moaned in ecstasy as she buried her face in his pubes, fulling lodging his prick in her throat. The degradation combined with the impassivity of the shopkeeper was turning her on like never before. She began to furiously rub at her clit as drool poured from her mouth and she again reached out with her tongue to lap at his balls.

She took a deep breath as she pulled back and sucked down hard on the head. Her tongue swirled around it, then bounced and undulated as she plunged back down the length. When she again reached the base, she swallowed, or tried to, sending a wave of sensation down the shopkeeper’s length. Despite all this, he continued to stand there as if all of this were just another boring day.

“Fuck,” she gasped, pulling back and springing his dick free of her mouth. Emma nuzzled the tip and looked up at Vick, who was watching the front door as if it were vastly more interesting than what was happening below his waist, “You’ve got one of the most amazing dicks I’ve ever sucked.” she sighed again, as her hand cranked it up and down all while her other hand rubbed and stroked her clit.

The shopkeeper glanced down at her when she spoke, his gaze impassive and uncaring. “Suck. Bitches don’t need opinions.” Then he looked away, returning his gaze to the shop.

Emma moaned, her pussy spasmed in a mini orgasm, and she latched her lips back around the head of his cock. She sucked on it ardently, reaching her hand beneath his shaft and began to lightly tug and fondle on his balls as her drool poured down his shaft. Her tongue again swirled around the tip and she eased her lips back down his shaft till her nose again brushed against his thick, black pubes.

The door to the shop opened again to the jingling of bells as Emma’s lips slid to the base of Vick’s prick. This time, instead of freezing, she moaned, thrust two of her fingers into her hot, wet cunt and began to earnestly bob up and down on his magnificent cock.

Footsteps creaked across the floor, but this time, to her surprise, Vick didn’t seize her head. He let her go and Emma sighed. She pulled his cock free and rubbed it over her face, turning slightly to look from the corner of her eye.

The new customer appeared to be little more than a homeless vagrant. He was wearing a ragged old coat, baggy pants with a hole in the leg, and had a thick, scraggly gray beard. The man looked at Vick, then down at Emma. His eyebrow lifted in surprise, but when he spoke, it was to address Vick. “It still twenty dollars, young man?”

The shopkeeper nodded his head. “It is.”

The old man’s eyes went back to Emma, who was no longer looking at him, but was back to bobbing her head enthusiastically up and down on Vick’s prick. He began to fish dollar bills out of various pockets. They were crumpled and dirty. “This…this one gonna be back there later?” he said, eyeing Emma and straightening the bills out on the counter.

Vick laughed, patting the side of Emma’s face where his prick was currently bulging against the inside of her cheek. “As soon as she’s finished here, she will be.” He gripped her hair, pulling his dick free and slapped it twice firmly against her cheek. “You wanna wait, Pops, get first crack at the cum craving, little skank?” He stuffed his meat back into Emma’s mouth and said, “she’s a pretty decent little cock sucker.”

“Sure…” he said, swallowing in anticipation. Clearly, the thought of having such a hot, young girl sucking on his dick was already making him hard. He handed Vick the mismatched pile of crumpled old bills. “I’ll just browse till you’re done. Thank you, young man.”

“Anytime, Gramps,” Vick responded. He used his hold on Emma’s hair to force his long, skinny prick all the way to the back of her throat. Holding her there, he hissed, “you got one minute to finish me off or we’re done.” He turned a cold gaze onto Emma, “and since I can tell you’re getting off on this, you should know that Pops there probably hasn’t showered in a month or more.”

Emma’s eyes rolled up in her head as he spoke. She orgasmed as her fingers moved inside her. The thought of sucking that dirty, old, homeless guy’s filthy prick, the thought that he hadn’t showered in months, and the degrading, casual way Vick treated her like she was nothing, sent her over the edge. She moaned in ecstasy and sucked down hard, rolling her tongue along Vick’s shaft as it darted from her lips, and lapped heavily at his balls.

He released her hair at the statement. Emma immediately began to fuck her own throat in long, hard, vicious strokes as she moved her lips vigorously up and down the shopkeeper’s shaft. Her soft, brown eyes turned bloodshot, and tears poured down her cheeks as she tortured her throat, trying to get Vick off. She pulled her hand out of her pants and wrapped them both around his shaft. She then began to pump it up and down as her lips slid up and down the top half while her fingers stroked the bottom.

She felt Vick tense and knew, despite his cavalier attitude that he must be close. “Please fill me with your cum,” Emma whispered softly, forgetting in the moment to use her American accent. He looked down at her as she wrapped her sexy lips back around him and went back to pumping his prick. He watched her, his dark eyes studying hers as she furiously worked him toward orgasm.

His body went rigid. He seized her head and forced her lips all the way down his cock and, with a soft, almost imperceptible grunt blew his load. He held her in place and pumped his hips back and forth as he milked his cock using Emma’s spasming throat muscles. He fucked her face, slowly, till every last ounce of cum had been drained from his balls and Emma was blue in the face from a lack of oxygen.

When he was done, he pushed her roughly to the floor. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a key. “You’re in stall number one. I expect this back when you’re done.” Vick then put his prick back into his pants and walked toward the far end of the counter to switch on an old TV.


End file.
